


all roads lead to you

by lieyuu



Category: Dream SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, First Meetings, Fluff and Humor, Inspired by Art, M/M, Meet-Cute, POV GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Vignette, i mean the cute part is debatable but they sure do meet, mentioned guns + shooting n the like, when u meet someone and ur like "yes i will choose this one i like this one"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 22:28:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29989761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lieyuu/pseuds/lieyuu
Summary: “I’m looking for someone,” Dream says, eyes suddenly simultaneously distant and piercing.I think I’ve been looking for you my whole life,George wants to say.or; searching for something and finding it, not necessarily in that order
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), so not rlaly i just wanted to talk about sapnap, very briefly implied dream + sapnap except i never say sapnap's name or any describing features
Comments: 14
Kudos: 88





	all roads lead to you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [awakenthecity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/awakenthecity/gifts).
  * Inspired by [yitus's very cool poggers art](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/775194) by hyxmix. 



> ^^ i uh. got slightly off track from what this was gonna be (something like "dream, george, and the memory of sapnap between them") and instead made it just aggressively dnf. oops? 
> 
> gifted to yitus >:3
> 
> i am not archive-locking this one for the sake of clout (/j) but do be aware that this is an au and the line between dsmp and rpf is a very fine one when it comes to AUs, so please keep that in mind if you go around reccing this :)
> 
> cool betas: [elle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/downthedarkpath) and [anix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fensandmarshes)

They meet at the edge of the world, and also at the edge of a mid-sized Steak ’n’ Shake parking lot. George barely has time to register the humanness of the new arrival - pale tips to their fingers, dark blondish hair - before there’s a gun pointed at his head, and a voice that could’ve been an angel’s in another lifetime saying, “Where the fuck did you come from?”

Something about the slight raspiness in the voice is what convinces George it’s human and not angelic, and also reminds him he is, in fact, alive, and not dead at a zombie horde’s hands, and - he should probably respond.

“You’re pointing a gun at me,” he says dumbly, then cringes. In his defense, he’s never been good at thinking on his feet. He’s made for plans and carefully thought out routes, not the suddenness of adrenaline and guns (one of which is. Still pointed at his head. Fuck).

“Impressive,” the voice says drily, though with a slight twist of something that might be humor. 

George twists around slowly, hands in the air like he’s being arrested or something. The man is obnoxiously tall, which is the first thing he notices. He’s wearing black gloves with the tips cut off, and the fingers of his right hand twitch around the handgun; a machete is hanging at his side in a sheath. His hoodie is black, he has a neck gaiter pulled up over his mouth, and his eyes are either golden or green. 

George drops his hands and turns to face him fully, eyeing the barrel of the gun nervously. “Just passing through,” he says after a moment. “I came from, uh - well, England, I suppose. But Louisiana, actually. Would you like to stop pointing the gun at me?”

The man huffs a breath of laughter and lowers the gun, tucking it away into a holster at his side. He tugs the gaiter down and smiles, almost shyly. “Sorry,” he says. “Force of habit. Turns out an apocalypse brings out the worst in some people, who would’ve thought?”

It must say something about George’s mental state that his breath has suddenly been stolen by a man who had been pointing a gun at him about three seconds ago, all because he smiled and it was pretty. 

“I imagine murder suddenly being legal makes way for a lot of sadists,” George agrees, and finds himself grinning when it makes the man laugh, eyes wide like he hadn’t expected to. “I’m George. It’s nice to meet you.” 

The man says, still smiling, “Dream,” and George has to hold himself back from blurting out,  _ it suits you.  _ Because it does - it’s a beautiful name, and it carries an air about it that says,  _ hello, yes, there are still good things in this world.  _ George looks at Dream and thinks,  _ maybe there are still good things in this world.  _

“So, uh,” Dream continues after a moment of silence, looking around - George follows his gaze, takes in the ocean in the distance and the falling-apart Steak ’n’ Shake sign five or so meters away from them. “Are you travelling alone?”

George laughs to fill the silence and looks down, because Dream may have lowered the gun and the mask and smiled like he was a college freshman, but his stance is still coiled tight and George hasn’t missed the way his hand twitches for the handle of the gun every so often. He still thinks George might be a threat; which is a reasonable assumption, really, but George likes being alive, and he likes Dream, and Dream shooting him would be terrible for both those things. “I am.” 

“That’s not exactly the safest,” Dream says, and George raises an eyebrow at him. 

“Hypocrite,” he says, then continues when Dream gives him a confused look. “You’re travelling alone too, aren’t you?”

“How do you know that?” Dream asks. His mouth lifts in a half-smile, and George briefly scrambles for his thoughts before refocusing on the conversation and not his racing heart. “I could be with a whole troupe of people for all you know. Maybe they’re all waiting in the bushes to jump you.”

George rolls his eyes and makes a show of looking around at the complete lack of bushes around them. When he turns back to Dream, he says, “That’s a pretty full hiking backpack - no way you’ve got a camp somewhere with even more stuff. If there was someone else walking with you, they’d have been here already. No camp nearby, no partner nearby. Either you’re on your own or you’ve got a death wish.” 

“Those things don’t have to be mutually exclusive,” Dream points out, with a distinctly proud look on his face when George snickers. He shifts on his feet and relaxes, hands going into his pocket. “Clever.”

“Common sense,” George shoots back. “So,  _ Dream,  _ what are you doing out here with a massive backpack and a gun and a machete all on your lonesome?” 

“I’m looking for someone,” Dream says, eyes suddenly simultaneously distant and piercing. George feels the weight of his gaze in his heart, feels his proud look when George laughs and feels the way they’re both still standing in this stupid fucking Steak ’n’ Shake parking lot talking to each other instead of moving on. 

_ I think I’ve been looking for you my whole life,  _ he wants to say. 

George is not a particularly trusting or sociable person. His life has been characterized by short-lived schoolyard friendships, strangers in bars, and profile pictures who live across an ocean. It’s a cosmic joke that he didn’t even make it to said profile picture before the apocalypse broke out. The universe wants him lonely.

He trusts Dream. 

“Sounds about right,” George says instead, fidgeting with the straps of his own bag. He flashes what’s hopefully a charming smile, one that turns genuine when Dream smiles back with the same almost-shy smile he’d greeted George with. “Mind taking me along for the ride?” 

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading! comments + kudos much appreciated; i can't promise that i'll reply, but please know i read and appreciate every single one so much :[ <3


End file.
